


Half and A Blind Man

by Halcyonranhuer



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alien/fantasy au, Alteans are not endangered, Angst, Balmaren!Hunk, Birthrights, Everyone's searching for something or someone, Forbidden Magic, Galra Keith (Voltron), Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Olkari!Pidge, Persecution, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Rebellion Team, War and conflict everywhere, blind!lance, mecenaries
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-18
Updated: 2017-03-10
Packaged: 2018-09-25 07:46:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9809918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Halcyonranhuer/pseuds/Halcyonranhuer
Summary: Alien AU.Keith has been living alone for a while due to his complicated heritage, until he meets Lance, a blind archer who claims to be a mercenary hired by Shiro to find him. "I have a group but I kind of lost them? Don't worry, Shiro's with them."Keith just wants to find Shiro and go home but their journey together is not as simple he thinks to be.Or the world full of aliens is just thrown in a World War and everyone has to find their stand there.





	1. The Blind Archer

**Author's Note:**

> Year XX45  
> The Galra Empire had broken the World Peace Treaty and started conquest on neighbouring kingdoms. The Kingdom of Altea seeked to resolve this issue as peacefully and diplomatically as possible. The Altean-Galran Treaty was introduced.
> 
> Year XX46  
> The Altean-Galran Treaty was not successful. Discriminations and hostility towards other alien species were starting to occur in Human kingdoms and states. 
> 
> Year XX47  
> The Humans established a new decree for better Human Rights. 
> 
> Year XX52  
> No Aliens are to be allowed on Human Territory- Punishable by Death.

> _There is a thing about hunting. First is the acknowledgement of the hunter and his prey, the two main roles in the event of a hunt. Only the prey is exclusive to the hunter and not the hunter to the prey. It is justly so for the hunter knows his prey but the prey knows not his hunter. The prey however does remain aware that he is hunted. Next, the hunt starts and end in a moments breath- when the hunter goes for the kill, it all takes just a single breath to draw the distinct line between life and death- the prey then turns to see the hunter, their gazes in contact. The hunter will come to understand either of two things- one, the start of a meeting that will never happen again. Or two, the hunter now learns that he is instead the prey. There is a thing about hunting. Its roles are fickle and paradoxical in nature. Hence lastly, also acknowledge the prey and his hunter._

So they say from either one of the classes of philosophy, sword-fighting or principle theories. Keith never really listens to any of them, yet somehow part of its periphrastic and verbose passages ends up getting stuck in his head while he trudges through the thick undergrowth in the sweltering heat. The night air was thick and humid, suffocating even. Summer has come in early this year.

He finally pauses at a certain spot, one foot hovering above the dried weeds and the other digging deep into the crusty soil, fingers dangling above his belt where his knives are carefully hidden. He waits and listens for something apart from the slight rustling of leaves and noises of small creatures.

 _An intruder_ , his instincts have been flaring madly for a while now, yet it cannot be just another harmless trespassing refugee; he will never be so on edge then. Whoever they are, Keith acknowledges with slight chagrin, they do at least have some commendable skills on avoiding detection.

There is the sound of a stray branch snapping.

Muscles tensing immediately, he tries to calm his initial rapid breaths into silent drawings of air, ‘the predator is always the calmer out of the two’, he is once told. He unsheathes his weapon and lithely slides behind some rocks. For a while, no one comes into view. The shadows remain as they are.

Growing a slight impatience, Keith narrows his eyes to try and peer into the darkness beyond the bushes’ silhouettes. His black locks which are made thick by the layers of dust, dirt and sweat, cling stubbornly in clumps on his forehead. Blinking irritably, he roughly sweeps them away, eyes never leaving their focus. He still hears no sign of movement.

Finally, he proceeds to make his way a little further with quiet footsteps. Better kill the enemy before it strikes then, he reasons. Furthermore daylight is coming. It will pose far more trouble for him instead.

He feels a trickle of perspiration trailing down his neck as he crouches behind the shadows of the crooked thin trees. They do not provide cover in the day from the scorching sunlight. However under the moonlight, their shadows grow into large contorted figures that seemingly resemble screaming ghouls. He will be perfectly hidden. He thinks, for something strikes above his shoulder, grazing the leather pads and nearly cutting into flesh. If not for his fast reaction, it will have been locked deeply in his shoulder joints.

An arrow, probably aimed from a good height.

Body locking in place for a moment, his senses freezing and his thoughts becoming a jumbled mess, Keith tries to process whatever just happened. Is this not dead in the night? He is carefully hidden, right? How is an archer able to see him from a supposed blind angle and much more without light? Perhaps it is the use of magic or similarly, magic rifles? He feels his lips drawing into a thin line.

Then will it be the Galra or… the Garrison?

Both have capabilities to strike accurately at night. The second shot has not yet come. Is it a fluke shot? Keith quickly shifts from the area and hops to a strong branch. Usually if targeted upon, their attacks will often come in waves. Keith ponders as he climbs the tree, trying to form up some simple strategy that his instincts can adhere to. It was at the corner of his eye when he saw a shadow emerging and a dim glint in the moonlight where it stands.

Not anymore, _quiznak_. He snarls. Grabbing his knife, he wildly charges up and tries to bring the blade into the figure’s face.

There was a loud clash of metal ringing and the cracking of wood. Keith finds his blade blocked against a bow and an arrow in his face. He wants to unsheathe his other blade to strike the final blow, but realises that his other hand remains on the branch which supports his balance. Instincts kick in and he quickly swings his legs to send the other hurling down from the branch. Hearing the clattering of the bow and arrows, he then jumps down and presses his blade to the intruder’s throat.

There is a short cough from the other, before Keith sees hands raising up as to indicate surrender. Judging from the intruder’s size, they have to be human or a smaller alien species and definitely not Galra (in which Keith finds the most threatening). Those aliens will have easily jump away to opt for hand-to-hand combat, either that or struggle madly. Still, he pushes the metal deeper as he growls most menacingly. “Speak! Who sent you?”

He hears another cough before a small croak from the other. “No one…” He shrieks louder when Keith leans in nearer. “No one! I swear there was no one! I am alone.”

“Do you not know that this is owned territory?” Keith thinks it is probably time to increase his markings on the trees.

“Yes! But I have to pass it to get to the other side. This was the only place without Galra patrols loitering everywhere and I do not have enough food to spare more than a few days.” The other replied rather earnestly, he does not move nor wrestle his way out from his position even if Keith’s knife had gone slack a little. Not to mention, he really has not detected a soul other than the one beneath him.

Keith looks down at the stranger warily for a spilt tick, before trying to shift his face from the moonlight and his gaze away from him. Then gritting his teeth, he snaps at the other. “You just shot an arrow at me.” He doesn’t see the stranger clearly enough, but he spots a blue hood and somewhat tawny- brown skin.

Crossing borders without passes are common acts these days, Keith knows. After all, he gets by attacking smugglers for the supplies. However with the increasing number of refugees, it has to be that things only have escalated since a year ago. A year ago since… Keith shakes his head. This is not the time now.

“I thought I saw a Galra for a second there so I panicked a little...” The other chuckles nervously as Keith finds himself tensing up once more. He hurriedly presses against his ears and only relaxes a little when he finds his makeshift hood still on.

“But it turns out that you’re a human too!” Keith bites his lip as his eyebrows knit into a deeper frown. Seeing that he has not replied, the other takes the liberty to continue his rambles. “So anyway I am very sorry. Look, can you please put down your weapon as well?”

“No.” Keith immediately answers and yanks him up by the collar instead. “How about you shut-”

It is then he sees a sudden flash of white and hears the sound of engines droning. Keith flinches when he notices the portal above them, an angry swirling vortex of lightning and storms, nearly losing his grip on the stranger. He manages to hold fast nevertheless. There is the familiar eerie glow of purple radiating off the crafts hovering not far from them and a few of something heavy landing.

Galra.

“You!” He hisses as he pushes the other down with great force. “You led them here!” Keith feels his canines lengthening and quickly clamps his mouth shut, cutting his lower lip in the process and drawing a little blood.

“I didn’t…! Don’t you ever listen?” The other squealed. “They just came out of nowhere!”

“It’s because you sent them the coordinates!” Keith spits venomously.

“I don’t have a ship or any advance tech strong enough to do that! You do know this is the middle of nowhere! Plus I am a human!” The stranger has his hands on Keith’s wrist, trying to push them away again despite having tried several failed attempts at this for a while. He is starting to sound quite upset from his tone.

“Anyway the Galra droids are coming dangerously close. If we both don’t want to get caught, you should let go off me now and I mean, now-now.” He huffs.

Keith grits his teeth before finally standing up, releasing his hold. Humans usually don't associate with other Alien species. What is that man doing here however, was another question. After all, this area lies near the border of Galra territory- it is only due to its lack of resources and strategic location that the Galra paid no attention to it. The other sits up quickly, rubbing his neck as he reaches out for his bow.

“You don’t think of running away.” Keith growls as he notices the start of daybreak. They will have to hurry if they still want the advantage.

“You don’t have many friends, do you?” The archer mutters before he raises his voice. “And stop calling me ‘you’, ‘you’. It’s not very refined. The name’s Lance, thank you very much.”

Keith just hops to a nearby branch. When he finally turns arounds, Lance is already missing. He cannot tell where the archer is in the shadows. Although his eyes do work better than the average in the dark, it is still difficult to discern detailed shapes apart. Fearing that Lance may have really escaped, Keith momentarily berates himself for his foolishness of daringly even to believe the man.

Yet he has to prioritise this imminent danger first. It is then a droid suddenly fell- arrow in its face. Keith remains stunned and watches as another three more fell. The rest are thrown into confusion, darting left and right, not looking up. He smirks; they are sorely mistaken to think they are the hunters in his territory. Keith hooks a wired rope on the end of his knife, before throwing hard at one of them, digging into its throat.

He takes the moment and lands in front of the last two, finishing them off with a quick slash. He then hears more rustling and barely dodges the numerous bullets that seemingly emerge from the bushes.

“Heads down!” Lance shouts from somewhere and Keith who is trapped in the chaos does as he is told. In very next tic, a deafening explosion comes from above and when he looks up, he sees the two Galra ships falling from the skies.He hasn’t expected that for sure. Keith notes that the shootings seem to have ceased and he takes the opportunity to clear out the rest.

* * *

 

When he is done, he finds himself standing near a cliff watching the sun making its way up in the horizon.

“Well, now that we got that cleared. Do you have any powered gems to spare me? I sort of used my last ones just now.”

Keith swerves around, eyes wide and reaches for his hood in which he realises that it has fallen off during the rough fight. He freezes, gloved fingers on his strange ears- long, slightly furry and purple, the colour only comes down to his neck, yet it remains very much still visible.

“Hey. Space to you, dude. You aren’t answering me.” Lance waves his hand in front of him.

Keith pauses for a bit, before he rushes in front of Lance’s face, ignoring his sudden exclamation and incoherent spluttering that comes after. He observes his eyes, a pale unique sort of blue. Finally, he says somewhat breathily. “Are you blind?”

“Huh? What? Wait! What the heck?” Lance grumbles softly. “And no, don’t use that term please. It has an inherently negative connotation.”

“So you are blind?”

“No, I am just incapable of seeing- well enough.”

“You are blind.” Keith nods, which means Lance must have some serious good skills to target those droids.

“Did you not listen to me? I swear you are so annoying! Just now, I thought you were planning on some serious confession…and I was fussing about how I didn’t even know your name.” Lance stops dramatically, before pointing a finger at him and yelling. “Wait, what is your name?”

Keith remains quiet before taking a deep breath.

“Keith.” He finally says at last, managing to keep his voice as nonchalant as possible.


	2. The Meeting Before

“Keith?”

“Keeeeeith?!” He shouts in disbelief.

“What?!” Said person swerves around to shriek in reply, he is this close to punching Lance in the face. “You don’t have to repeat my name five times!”

“You’re Keith?”

“Yes! Now leave me alone!”

“Keith? No way!” Lance manages to pull the other back by the sleeves in which Keith gives him an uppercut for that. He ducks successfully anyway.

“Yes way! I am Keith. What is wrong with you?”

“Why did you just swing an arm at me?”

“Seriously! What is wrong with you?”

Currently, Keith and Lance have locked themselves up in a screaming contest

* * *

 

_Before_

Lance sniffs the air. There is a fair mixture of moisture within from the small shower that occurred last night. Then he hears a familiar pattern of walking from the rolling pebbles and the grinding of gravels. Grinning, he steadies himself. A good dinner has finally presented itself to him. Hunk better whip up a five-star buffet like those famous restaurants he passed by in Human cities, he has been crouching like this for days after all.

The creature snorts and Lance hears it shifting its head about. It is still wary. No matter, Lance thinks, all an arrow really needs is a spilt second and he is sure that it will hit its vital spot. He aims at the point and releases, and releases again. There is a strangled cry, thrashing and eventually silence. Feeling somewhat smug, he begins to loop a rope around its leg.

Then, the earth shakes violently and Lance feels himself falling over on his meal- face first onto wet fur. The strong pulse fades as quickly as it comes, but Lance can sense the water droplets in the air reacting violently. He has got dirt and blood on his face and he thinks to have a shower first. He stands up, legs wobbling and fingers tingling.

Hunk’s messing with something when he gets home. Lance can hear tools at work, lots of metal ringing about and two hushed voices. Pidge definitely has finally decided to come over and stop holing up in her personal treehouse for once.

“Hunk! I’ve got dinner!” He shouts out as he pulls his hood down. “Good dinner!”

“Lance, you’re back? Wait! Give us a moment!” Hunk’s voice can be heard from the floor above.

Lance frowns. Now what fun is he missing out on? However knowing those two, it is probably another machine-tech thing which he never gets. He doesn’t get things he never seen before.

 “What are you two schmoozing about? Hurry up and come down already!” He places his bow down and decides to make his way up the stairway when he hears Hunk’s usual stomping across the rickety wooden platforms and quickly jumps away before the other collides into him.

“Lance!” He greets hastily, a strange habit Lance notices Hunk adapted nowadays, before scanning him from head to toe and paling drastically. “Erm what happened?”

“I just fell onto the boar-”

“A boarbub!” Pidge quips casually from behind, adjusting her glasses.

“Boar-wha? Isn’t this a boar?” Lance asks, furrowing his eyebrows. Their walking patterns are quite similar though, Lance ponders as he wipes his face with the towel that Hunk has offered. “There are just so many creatures- I only classify them as edible and non-edible.”

Pidge slides into one of the chairs at the table and starts explaining. “It’s an alternate species from what we humans call a boar. Just like Altea’s horned hare. It’s just a part of environmental evolution to adapt to its surroundings. Humans are getting cocky just to think of it as a runaway evolution instead- oh that boarbub’s a male- just because it only just has a different skin texture compared to the boar…”

“Pidge, are they edible?” Lance intercepts.

“Yes-”

“That’s all we need to know.”

By then, Hunk is already cutting up the meat and reaching for some spices in the cardboard. Pidge makes a face as she goes back to her laptop-like device, typing away.

“They do taste like boar though.” Hunk says.

“So we’re going to have steak tonight? Right, Hunk?” Lance grins, feeling quite happy. He then adds when he turns to the girl. “You can stay for dinner, but I am going to have the bigger portion.”

Pidge drops her chin on the table, glasses sliding off as she rubs her temple and groans loudly. Hunk chuckles apologetically. “Well, steaks are from cows. But I can make my special boarbub meat recipe to compete with that!”

“Dude, I’ve never even hunted down a boar-bub before till today. Aren’t you just cooking things up on the spot? You know, cooking?” Lance then makes a gesture with his hands to emphasise on his pun. Pidge however now remains face down on the table and Hunk just scratches his head with an awkward laugh.

Dinner is good, though Lance has to be really careful with the juices and gravy. He keeps spilling them earlier and he feels sorry for Hunk having to wipe under him a few times in a row. He doesn’t know cooked boarbub flesh contains so much juice; it squirts out when he cuts them too hard. Again, it splashes on his face and he turns to Pidge with a tired glare. She is laughing too hard for her own good.

Pidge pulls out some strange machinery after dinner. Hunk’s doing the dishes and Lance isn’t paying too much attention to what she does, nibbling on a fruit. She does this every night, no matter where she is. It is like her only way of redeeming, to find her remaining lost family members since the Galra attack a year ago- Pidge mentions it once during a bad quarrel and never again. Lance nevertheless still harbours some form of guilt to that incident.

“By the way, did you encounter anything while you were out there? I mean I have been getting crazy signals from everywhere.” She suddenly pipes up, distracting him from his thoughts.

“A pulse- I mean the shockwave kind of pulse?” Lance recalls his not so very likable incident.

“Yes, like that kind of pulse!” Pidge exclaims.

Lance nods, biting into his fruit once more before she finally realises he has answered her question. She coughs sheepishly. “I mean where did you encounter it?”

“One of my hunting spots- a little further and higher than the ridge…” Lance hears the sound bags being unzipped and buckling of straps before he turns to her in shock. “You want to go now?”  

“Of course!”

“But the sun has already gone down and there will be dangerous creatures lurking about.” Hunk says anxiously.

“Which means more good dinner and the thrill of a lifetime! Come on!” Lance exclaims, fixing his hood and grabbing his bow eagerly.

“Oh, I have my share of thrills.” Hunk laughs humourlessly, but Lance and Pidge are already almost out of the front door. He pauses for a bit, stares at their retreating figures before hurriedly tossing his vest over. “Wait for me, guys!”

* * *

 

“You sure it’s here?”

“For the billionth time, yes.” Lance grimaces; he folds his arms and leans against a stray boulder. “I mean I would remember where I fell flat on my face.” He huffs, his tone quite high.  

Pidge isn’t paranoid or overly suspicious, sceptical definitely but to a good extend. However it so happens that they are currently in the middle of an open wasteland, just hidden behind some rocks. Lance says it’s his forty-third hunting spot.

Yet there is nothing other than dirt and dust, Pidge has no idea how a boarbub is able wander its way into this barren land. She’s still a little tongue-tied, not knowing how to answer Lance. Honestly, there is nothing here that can possibly cause such a big shockwave. She looks at her laptop, readings are coming in normally.

Hunk, the ever gentle giant- bless him for his existence, decides to break it to his best friend. “I hate to say it, but this area is devoid of anything except a rocky path!”

“It’s one of the boar’s trails. You guys just can’t see it.” Lance snaps in reply. “Plus the pulse really did occur here. The water droplets are still reacting to something!”

“Can’t see… Can’t see…” Pidge murmurs for a moment. “Underground! Lance, is there somewhere that leads us underground here? Like really deep underground.”  

Lance looks at the ground, deeply analysing it. “No, but there is some weird energy trail that leads up north.”

“Lance, you say that the water droplets are still reacting right?” Hunk asks. Lance nods in reply.

“Perhaps then…” Hunk starts to pull out various sorts of equipment from his pockets and haversack. He then turns to Pidge excitedly. “We can make a machine that can detect these kinds of waves.”

“Literal energy waves? We don’t have any medium to help detection of such a small scale.” Pidge replies, putting her items down.

Hunk waves a small bottle in their faces, shaking it slightly. The contents within radiate a dull blue yet comforting glow. “Not if I have Balmarian crystals.”

“Isn’t that your important family memento?” Lance quickly asks.

“Won’t hurt if I take a little out. I’ve been doing that anyway for some time now.” Hunk gives a small smile and immediately proceeds to get to work, fumbling on the gadgets and tools that are scattered on the ground. Pidge also pitches in, but she doesn’t miss the expression on Lance’s face.

It’s something she cannot exactly describe.

A few hours later when the gibbous moon hangs low in the night sky, they find the entrance that leads to the underground. It’s a small crevice in between rocks, boulders and walls. Pidge slips in easily, so does Lance, but Hunk who in body size is much bigger than them hesitates a little.

As Pidge wanders about, curious and explorative, Lance remains trying to pull Hunk through the hole, leg propping up against the wall.

“Guys, it seems that this path was created very recently.” Pidge breathlessly rambles, her hands constantly sliding back and forth on the rock walls. “Like today.”

Lance and Hunk tumble onto the floor.

“Today?” Hunk squeaks, trying to help up his friend. “Natural constructions like this can’t happen in a day. Erosions take hundreds and thousands of years!”

“It explains the pulse and the energy spikes.” Pidge casually answers. “Come on! Let’s not dawdle around for too long.” She tosses an item to Hunk who catches it clumsily, nearly dropping it. “I’ve only got an extra flashlight. Both of you might have to share.”

Hunk turns to look at Lance in confusion, the other just folding his arms with an annoyed murmur. “I don’t think I would need one at all.”

They walk for a bit in pitch black, save for the path their flashlights illuminate for them. Pidge notices the ghostly whistling of the wind and figures that there may be a bigger cave up ahead. She starts to pick up speed, only to be suddenly pulled back.

“Careful!” She hears Lance’s harsh whisper. “There is a ledge ahead.”

Pidge notices she has forgotten to turn on her night vision glasses. She happens to be saving up on power, so she’s been using them as little as possible. After all, gems are expensive on the market and are hard to come by in the wild.

Indeed there is a ledge just a few feet ahead, leading into a large cavern strangely light up. They scan the various parts of cavern, gem-encased stalacites and stalagmites, yet eventually, all focus still trail back to the large foreign object wedge in between the earth.

“Holy… Isn’t that a Galra ship escape pod?” Hunk whispers, eyes wide in terror Pidge thinks they are going to pop out.

“It…doesn’t seem like there’s a Galra inside though.” Lance furrows his eyebrows. “It’s strange but I don’t think there really is a Galra in there-Pidge?”

She is already heading down from the ledge and hopping down. Suddenly, the ledge of the pod flips up. Pidge manages to duck behind some stalagmites. Lance and Hunk pull themselves back from the entrance. A figure stumbles out, wheezing and coughing, before collapsing onto the ground. The three remain stunned for a moment.

“H-Human!” Hunk gasps as he follows Lance’s initiative to head down.

“What is a human doing in a Galra pod?” Pidge questions in confusion. She is the first to head over and quickly pulls out a pouch from one of her many pockets. When she looks down, more clearly now, she immediately notes that the individual is quite a well-built male, a little too thin for his height and his cybernetic arm- the kind of technology she’s never seen before. She pushes him over and sees a broad scar running across his face. It is then, she notices something on his hand.

“A prisoner tag?” She murmurs.

“Pidge, what are you doing? Poor guy’s bleeding out and you’re just analysing him like some tech.” Lance exclaims in disbelief.

“He isn’t gushing forth fountains of blood. Probably just suffered a little concussion and a gash near the hip but the blood’s already crusting up.” Pidge replies. He does have a lot cuts and bruises though.

“Anyway, you take this.” She tosses the medical pouch to him as she rushes to the rescue pod, not caring about his protests. “I need to do something first.”

She quickly inserts wires onto her devices and fiddles with the buttons. The Galra definitely had a complex and efficient system of communication technology somewhat similar to the Olkari or the Alteans, which means a great deal of information can be accessed from any Galra ship with good enough hacking skills. Lists, small pop-ups and strange symbols flash across the screen. Pidge hopes she gets to the prisoners lists soon.

Lance, who has conveniently handed over the patching up job to Hunk, suddenly then scampers ahead of them and stands listening intently before turning abruptly with a worried look. “Guys! It’s the Garrison!”

“What? How?” Hunk nearly drops the bottle of disinfectant.

“I know those sirens from their ships all too well. You hear them in Human Cities all the time.” Lance replies. “Plus Alien pods from Alien ships in Human territories are just begging for the Garrison to come.”

“It’s not their territory.” Pidge spits irritably as she hurriedly presses some buttons. “This is clearly the border of another land.”

Hunk quickly interjects as Lance helps to hoist the man up. “Right, back to the situation at hand. Uh so we obviously can’t bring the pod along and it’s morally wrong to leave an injured man here so I guess we are bringing him in?”

“Yes. I want to talk to him.” Pidge answers, tone low. Her hand hovers on the wire plugs for a little and she looks away, biting her lip before pulling them out. The footsteps are getting louder and she rushes behind the two.

* * *

 

_After_

“Would you just quit it already?” Keith pushes Lance against the tree. “What’s your deal here anyway?”

“I came to look for you! Shiro hired me to look for you- kind of! I work as a mercenary if you didn’t know.” Lance laughs sheepishly. “Sorry, I was too excited.”

Shiro? Keith loosens his grip, eyes wide and mouth slack. He suddenly feels quite numb. Shiro cannot…

“Wait! How… do you know Shiro?” Keith hates how his voice wavered a little. Lance seems to be quite oblivious though

“He’s been murmuring how the Galra has managed to track you down and has been delirious trying to get up and find you. So I decided to take the job since we are being chased anyway and look for you!”  

“Wait! You left Shiro alone?”

“I have a group but I kind of lost them? Don’t worry, Shiro’s with them though!” Lance chuckles, looking somewhat uncomfortable. Keith’s glaring hard at him, of course. “It can be said it’s a stroke of good luck though. I found you.”

“With just a name- You don’t even know how I look like!” Keith gawks.

“There are not many Keiths crazy enough to live near the edge of the Galra Empire’s border.” Lance shrugs his shoulders before giving a soft smile. “Plus you do look like you should do.”

Keith makes a face. “What does that mean anyway? You can’t even see.” He proceeds to stand and then yank forcefully Lance by the collar. “Come with me anyways. I still have _a lot_ of questions.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hunk and Pidge are not using their super-alien powers yet is because they are born near human cities and co-existed with the humans since young- until the establishment that is. Hence they are not so connected to their species or the planet as they should. It be further explained later in the story.  
> Lance can see aura and energy waves. He is not completely residing in the darkness. Only Alteans and Galrans have a unique kind of aura- that's why he can tell them apart.


	3. Takashishi

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance and co seems to get Shiro's name wrong all the time. Bonding session still doesn't bode well for Lance and Keith.

Keith’s ridiculously strong despite his smaller body frame, Lance grimaces as he is currently and very much reluctantly being dragged into what seems like a cleverly disguised hole behind the ragged boulders.

“Hey Keeeith.” Lance whines. He thinks he sounds like a kid but never mind about that, his bottom is getting quite sore from scrapping across small gravels, bumpy roads and branches whatnot. “I can walk you know. My hood’s really gonna tear at this rate.”

“No.” Keith growls, his grip tightens and his pace increases.

“You shouldn’t be living here, it doesn’t really cultivate trust and bonding-” Lance replies with a huff as he folds his arms. “-Which is exactly what you need now.” 

“Shut. Up.” Keith grits his teeth, ears perking up occasionally. He hopes that no Galra patrols are lurking about after the initial attack. He really doesn’t wish to confront anyone now- now that he has Lance on the leash.

“Wow, number one prize for the nicest guy award.” Said whiny archer sarcastically muses.

Keith then suddenly releases him and Lance nearly falls back, yelling some incoherent words. He hears Keith shuffling about the boulders. Lance proceeds to feel about, trying to place a location in his mind. The undergrowth is thicker here for sure, he thinks as his fingers prod on dried leaves and twigs. However, for some odd reason or another, the ground seems to be rather uneven. 

“Hey, don’t wander around.” Keith mutters when he sees Lance standing up from the corner of his eye. “There are traps around-”

“AHHHH!”

He rubs his temples for a bit before turning around with grimace as he watches Lance dangling above the ground, rope looping around his ankle. “Keith! Get me down!” He screams (rather unsightly) and frails about like a fish out of water. Arrows are all scattered over, having fallen from the pouch and his bow is at an unreachable distance.

Keith groans, unsheathing his knife. However, he hesitates and then grins as if he thought of something great. He laughs, seemingly deviously much to Lance’s chagrin. “How about you hang around for a bit while I get some food prepared?”

“Keith, that is so not funny! Not funny!”

But the raven head is already halfway down his lair, guffawing as he descends.

“Keith! You mean unsociable quiznack! Put me down!”  

* * *

 

_Before_

“Are we going to get in trouble?” Hunk bites his fingers nervously as he rambles about. “Well actually, I think we are going to get into trouble- considering that we took someone out of the pod without like any permission or anything. I hope the guards don’t come knocking- I mean, what will we do then? They won’t touch us, right? We’re just civilians!”

“For the love of mermaids, Hunk, chill.” Lance grabs him by the shoulders. Hunk is a mess, trembling and fidgeting about so much that every movement he makes, the wooden chair he is sitting on keeps making constant creaking noises. “And wasn’t you the one who opted on bringing him back since it was _‘morally wrong’_ to leave him there?” Lance then makes a gesture with his two fingers.

“Well, it was the adrenaline talking. Now that the adrenaline has settled and I am of sane mind, I just have effectively calculated the possibilities of us breaking law- an empire law- which we just did by the way, by touching anything Alien related.” Hunk speaks anxiously as he proceeds to fiddle with his head band, now that he isn’t rocking the poor chair to destruction. He looks up as he repeats worriedly. “They won’t touch civilians, right?”

“Have you heard of the Garrison not touching civilians?” Pidge snorts as she continues typing away on her computer.

“Human civilians.” Hunk corrects meekly.

Pidge immediately retorts as Hunk turns a shade paler. “Bah, they gun them down if they side the rebels.”

 “Pidge, stop that. Whatever the reason you’re pissed about, Hunk shouldn’t take the brunt of your temper.” Lance then sighs as he pulls a wet cloth and places it over the injured man’s head. “Dude’s running a fever by the way.”

Silence settles between the three of them, before Hunk eventually volunteers to grab some herbs from the kitchen cabinet to try and conjure some form of medication out of them. Lance looks down at the man and tries to imagine how he looks from the description given from his friends. Something about tall, dark and handsome (Pidge), broad shoulders (Pidge), a head of black and white hair but still very much charming (Hunk) and something about scars (Hunk). Oh, Lance recalls, both mention about a metal arm.

 Lance lets his fingers run across the man’s right arm. “His arm is really made out of metal- oh?” He feels something at his tips like a band of some sort and he places his index finger through it, tugging curiously.

“There’s like a tag here, Pidge.”

The girl swerves around abruptly as she jumps over to the other’s side. “A name tag? Oh yeah, that prisoner tag.” She mutters and quickly pulls out a small knife, about the size of a pen and with a quick motion, cuts it off. There are strange symbols engraved on it.

“Galra number codes- for prisoners to be more exactly.” She says, looking at them intently.

“How do you know? I thought the Galran language are supposed to be unreadable, uninterpretable or something.” Lance asks.

“That is what the idiots say.” Pidge says, nonchalant. “With enough training, anyone can read them.”

Lance tilts his heads. Aren’t the people who say that reowned human scholars in the language of Aliens? Even he, who knew the Altean language with an extra six more languages, could not understand Galran for the life of it. Yet, he doesn’t question too much. He senses Pidge being far too engross with the tag.

“Maybe I can find out something about him if I try to scan his number in the list of names that I have.” The file she manages to hack through and download earlier before the Garrison came is only less than half down, yet it will not be worth to not give it a try.

The search is fruitful. A match comes in twenty seconds.

“Found it!” She exclaims excitedly. Lance looks up in confusion, his nose twitching as a strange smell wafts from the kitchen and something whispers to him that he will not get sick anytime soon if that is Hunk’s version of medicine. Pidge however, remains completely oblivious- either that or she just simply ignores it- as she proceeds to read his name.

“Ta…Ka…Shi… Shi…” She pronounces out.

“What?” Lance pipes up.

“Shush Lance, I am trying to recall the last letter.”

“Alright.” Lance sits back down and pinches the bridge of his nose. It smells like wet socks now, he thinks somewhat miserably, feeling sorry for the fellow who has to drink it.

“Ron? Ru? Ra?” Pidge mutters under her breath.

“I thought you said you read Galran.”

“I do.” Pidge snaps irritably. “It’s the translation that’s tough. You know how Galran grammar changes in every context and some words are just there because it’s there. They don’t mean anything in the human language.”

Lance cocks his head to the side.

“Whatever, I got the first part down. Its Takashi- Shi”

“Takashishi?” Lance echoes, before bursting out into laughter. “That’s a strange name, alright!”

“What’s going on?” Hunk has appeared from the doorway, carrying something in hand, a pot with a concoction making some gurgling noises. He places it on the table beside the man Lance now dubs to be Takashishi. 

“Is this edible? I don’t need to see to know it’s not.” Lance murmurs and nearly lurches when Hunk scoops it out. It sounds like sludge and now that it is right beside Lance on the night stand, the smell really hits to the bones. The archer then scrambles away when he hears Hunk approaching the injured man with the bowl.

“You don’t wish to see it.” Pidge scrunches up her nose as she quickly resumes her work on the screen.

Hunk frowns. “How rude. It’s a sort of Balmarian healing dish- most effective among all the humans western medicine.”

“I can understand why it is the most effective. You don’t want to get sick anymore after eating that.” Lance squeaks as he tries to find something to distract himself from the smell. Being blind heightens the rest of his remaining senses. Not that Lance is complaining about it. It definitely helps at times like during hunting or tracking, but on a daily basis, it may cause him much agony- like now, for instance. Not that Hunk will ever understand. Sometimes, he thinks his best friend has really weird tastes- like gravy and vanilla whip cream- he never knows why.

“Pidge found his name. It’’s Takashishi.” Lance then says.

“What? What kind of a strange Human name is that?” Hunk inquires, looking between a mix of curiosity and giggles.

“It’s not his full name.” Pidge slaps her forehead. “It’s whatever I could read from the Galran text.”

“I vote that we call him ‘dude’ first. Takashishi feels as if I am making fun of him.”

“What if it’s his real name?” Lance rocks on his chair, grinning widely.

“Then I think we are saying it really wrong.” Hunk sighs as he feeds the other another spoonful of medicine.

Morning comes quickly and they wait for a bit, before resuming to their daily activities, all the while waiting for the man to rouse.

* * *

_After_

“Keith. PUT ME DOWN ALREADY!’ Lance hollers as he tries detangling the rope. Are ropes ever so difficult to untie? Lance laments. He tries feeling for his hidden danger and realises he must have accidentally dropped it during his earlier fall into the border.

“It’s a Galran rope binding technique- for hunting. Give it up.” Lance hears Keith trudging over, the sound of metal sliding and rope breaking, before falling face first onto the ground. He curses mentally and swears he hears Keith sniggering at the background. Lance doesn’t have good ears for nothing.

“You quiznack. I heard that.” Lance winces as he rubs his nose, tears threatening to spill. His nose has been far too abused too many times. Keith quickly cups his mouth and pulls Lance up by the arm.

“Right, this way.” He says at last.

Keith’s hideout does not exactly resemble warm and cosy, but at least it offers some form of shade in the heat. It is early noon by now Lance presumes, feeling the heat sticking to the back of his neck, his clothes uncomfortably damp with perspiration.

“Shiro.” Keith begins, dragging to be what sounds like a chair and slumping on it. 

“Aren’t you’re going to at least offer me tea?” Lance sighs. “I thought you were preparing food.”

“My lunch.” He hears Keith taking a bite from something, silverware clanking on ceramic and the smell of meat stew.

“I really don’t like you.” Lance grumbles, feeling his appetite stirring and his stomach starting to rumble.

“Glad the feelings are finally mutual.” Keith raises his spoon and points it towards Lance. “Now tell me about Shiro before I drive my dagger into your skull.”

Lance snorts.

* * *

_Before_

The man (to be known as Takashishi- dubbed by Lance) rouses much later in the day, when Hunk is shopping in the market and Pidge probably napping at her treehouse. Lance is picking on some vegetables, slicing the roots and stems apart when he hears the first of louder painful groans coming from the man.

“Woah steady there.” He positions his hand behind his back. It is then he is nearly hit in the face by Takashishi’s metallic arm- thank the heavens for his good reflexes, he doesn’t imagine what will happen to his face if he gets hit by that- and finds himself feeling the elder man’s trembling beneath his fingers. He senses that he is probably being stared at and proceeds to push Takashishi’s metal arm. It’s a little discomforting though, Lance thinks as he finds that the man flinches with his every touch.

“You’re… You’re in safe hands.” Lance finally swallows.

The man, eyes wide with panic and muscles tensed, finally relaxes a little and turns his head around, trying to register his surroundings. He coughs. “Where… Where am I?”

“Uh, my house? Or one of my family properties- in short, still my house.” Lance quickly replies. “We got you out from that Galra pod and patched you up real quick. You were kinda bleeding out there.”

“Ah… Urgh. The Galra…” The man then suddenly clutches his head as he squeezes his eyes shut. The migraine is tearing his head apart and he is too much in pain to say anything about it. Lance manages to sense his distress and rushes over to get some of Hunk ‘special’ medicine to feed it to the other.

“It stinks like wet socks and smelly feet, but it really helps.” Lance gives him a lopsided smile, or he thinks he does. Anyway, Takashishi does not have the capability to pick up the spoon and Lance just holds it out in the air. He feels it being cleared and is somewhat grateful that the injured man tries to consume it anyway. Takashishi falls asleep soon after and Lance waits anxiously for Hunk’s return.

“Takashishi woke up. He slept again after I fed him that bowl.” Lance starts when the door flings open, revealing a very confused looking Hunk with big bags of strange food- not that Lance can ever tell anyway. The bigger man places down his stoles carefully before heading over to the couch.

“Uh, he looks as if he is having a nightmare now.” Hunk comments blankly, his eyebrows furrowing when he sees the man twitching uncomfortably in his sleep. “Maybe it should be better if you didn’t let him sleep?”

“He was in pain, Hunk. I can’t see but I definitely know that laboured breathing anywhere. And don’t patients need rest more than anything else?” Lance frowns. He isn’t sure what to do.

“Well yes, though he seems to be in more pain now-”

“GUYS!” Suddenly the door slams open and Pidge is already halfway into the house.

“Pidge, remove your shoes!” Lance shrieks, hearing his floorboard and carpets coming into contact with her squeaky boots. “The carpets are going to get dirty. Do you always do that anyway?”

“Puh-lease. It is not as if you do any house cleaning for the matter.” Pidge waves her hand dismissively as she rolls her eyes. She then excitedly continues to the matter she wants to raise up, her tone a pitch higher. “Anyway, I finally found out the last syllable of his name. It’s ‘ro’.”

She announces proudly and sticks her chest out, extremely impressed by her own efforts.

“Takashishiro?” Lance mumbles.

Immediately, the other jolts up from his slumber and sits up right with such quick motions that three barely register his actions.

“Well, he’s awake.” Hunk says and Pidge’s expression grows a tone darker.

“K-Keith…” The elder man rasps.

“Keith?” Lance wonders as Hunk rushes to grab a cup of water.

“So, what about the Galra do you know?” Pidge asks immediately or demands, her tone is extremely harsh for the matter, very un-Pidge like.

“Pidge, this isn’t the Garrison inquisition section. Give the man some space first.” Lance turns to the man who is breathing far too hard for Lance’s liking. “Erm, I guess we know your name? Takashishiro?”

The man looks up and Pidge takes a good look at his face, noticing for once the purplish rings beneath those haunted eyes, his hair, greasy, messy, thick with what seems like congealed blood and dirt and his hunched over frame. She steps behind Lance, biting her lip, her cheeks flushing. 

“Shiro.” The man relaxes for a bit and gratefully accepts the glass of water when Hunk  comes running in. "It's Takashi Shiro."   

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise Klance will come up soon. A chapter more.   
> Pidge is acting like that because she's really worried about Matt.

**Author's Note:**

> The Humans are located in the far East and the Galra in the far West, so it will be a while before they start to wage war on each other. Yes, Keith's Half Galra traits reflect on him physically.  
> They are not going to be apart from the rest for long.


End file.
